


Under the Maple Tree

by gworm



Category: Dr. STONE (Anime), Dr. STONE (Manga)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cutting, Depression, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:01:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21723418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gworm/pseuds/gworm
Summary: Asagiri Gen, although skilled as a mentalist, feels as though he is of no worth in the stone world. After a close encounter with death, and with the help of his Scientist friend, his reform can finally begin.⚠️TW⚠️ read the tags
Relationships: Asagiri Gen/Ishigami Senkuu
Comments: 23
Kudos: 144





	Under the Maple Tree

**Author's Note:**

> I’m writing chapter two.  
> I was waiting for the anime to air a specific scene so I wouldn’t have to label it manga spoilers, I felt like that would turn people away. Even more than the triggering topics haha

Being average was, well, average. Sure it meant not being enough to make a difference in the world, but who would want all those responsibilities anyway. It made it possible to enjoy the world around you without having that heavy weight of others’ expectations on your shoulders, but that averageness that granted the relaxing days would then become the biggest burden of them all. 

That was what Gen struggled with most.

He never felt useful. His friends worked on projects day and night, or trained until they collapsed with fatigue, but he couldn’t fight or lift or craft like the others, and he certainly didn’t have every law of science memorized. When the world changed, his averageness turned into weakness. The only thing he had going for him now were his mind tricks and word play, which could only get him so far in a world full of jabbing spears and swinging clubs.

It’s not like it was much better before, though. In modern times, he wasn’t so popular either. Almost everyone saw him as a stuck up brat. A fake. The books he wrote never got much attention, and if they did manage to get some recognition, it wasn’t often, and it wasn’t the good kind. Even Senku said it himself: they were trashy. 

His decision to become a self-proclaimed mentalist stemmed from his natural talent for noticing things. It wasn’t hard for him to get a read on a person with a few words, or a good look. To him, it seemed like it was the only thing he was really good at, so that’s where all his time and effort went. It wasn’t all for nothing, but it’s not the kind of skill that had any chance at protecting him in a forest full of people that wanted to kill him.

Even if he felt like a worthless piece of shit, talking to the school’s counselor was still out of the question. He couldn’t trust someone who was being paid to listen to teenage brats ramble on about their boy trouble. Not only was the whole occupation practically a joke to him, but having his emotions read carefully, as he did to others so often, didn’t quite sit right with him. It was hypocritical for sure but he just couldn’t bring himself through the door and into that invasive room.

Senku’s kingdom of science was hard at work, attempting to recreate the cellphone. He and Senku were the only ones who actually knew what it was they were making, being the only two from before the disaster that froze everyone, but that didn’t put a damper on the team’s excitement. 

But of course, he wasn’t much help to anyone during the crafting process. He tried to help Kohaku and Suika collect materials, but he was too slow to keep up with them, and Senku’s rambling about chemicals was making him go insane. As a result of his uselessness he had a lot of time to himself, but time to reflect upon himself and his past could hardly be considered a good thing.

He tried his best not to think about anything that’d make him feel upset, but sometimes the thought just came. He focused his thoughts on the natural setting as he surrounded himself with the forest. All around him were trees over a thousand years old, the sky was bright and clear, a small stream trickled somewhere behind some bushes. It would have been nice to enjoy the scenery, but the beautiful, peaceful setting only reminded him of what had been lost. It was hard to accept that his old life was gone forever. 

After walking for what seemed like forever, he was becoming fatigued. He leaned himself against a thick maple before letting himself slump to the ground beside it. Sitting with his back against an old tree, he let his thoughts flow freely. He hadn’t even noticed the tears leaking from his eyes until he felt a drop on his hand. The mask he put on for the others had been torn off by the comfort of isolation, and now it was just him and his raw emotions. He wanted for nothing to be wrong with him, but if there truly was nothing wrong, he wouldn’t have been crying. 

Gen didn’t move from that spot until the sunlight had almost disappeared from the bright orange sky. The skin under his eyes felt tight from the tears that he never bothered to wipe away. Slowly, he made his way back to the only place he had to call home, but he was confident that he made the right choice on who to side with. It was amazing how much Senku had already been able to advance the primitive village, it was nothing compared to what Tsukasa had done. 

By the time he reached their little campsite, any remaining sunlight had completely disappeared. It seemed not much had changed since he wandered off earlier, but he knew that every minute was valuable to the genius boy. The villagers were finishing their nightly meal, and cleaning up. His stomach’s growls told him to hurry and eat something, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask for their food. It would be rude to insist they share what they prepared with him, especially when he had done so little to help them. 

He sat up in his makeshift bed, as awake as he could’ve possibly been. He had always had trouble with sleeping, even in his life before. It was difficult for someone with such an active mind to simply turn it off. Memories of his past life haunted him like ghosts. He missed the sound of cars and trains rushing by, the bright lights of cityscapes, the taste of hot food made by skilled chefs. It was a challenge not to cry next to the sleeping bodies of his friends around him, but he won the battle against his emotions for once. Hours seemed to pass by before he finally lost consciousness, and drifted into the world of dreams.

Gen sat himself on a log to watch Senku fiddle with bamboo fibers and wires. His calloused hands moved skillfully to bend the materials and shape them into something he could use. The boy had an admirable sense of determination that Gen could only dream of having himself. 

His eyes drifted towards the tool that the scientist set down on the ground next to him. A knife. Uncontrollable thoughts bounced around in his brain, impulsive urges that told him he had to take it. Temptation won that round.

“Senku-chan~” he put on his usual cheerful act as he moved closer to the scientist. 

“What is it?” Senku muttered distractedly. 

“How’s the phone coming along?” He leaned over as if to get a closer look at Senku’s work while his fingers reached out and grabbed the desired item. It was an admittedly sloppy move that had little chance to succeed, but he couldn’t help himself. Excitement jolted throughout his entire body as soon as his fingers made contact with the smooth wooden handle. He had forgotten to listen to the other boy’s reply, and instead focused on slipping the item of interest up his sleeve. The mentalist practically skipped away, looking to find the comforting tree he had passed time under the day before. It seemed much closer to the village than it had the last time he went wandering around, but it was still far enough to be secluded and quiet. 

He knelt down on a patch of grass and pulled the knife from his pocket, pausing to admire the beauty of it. It was modern and sleek compared to the primitive world around them. It wasn’t a perfect replica of something they would’ve had 3700 years ago, but it could still be considered modern when compared to their other tools. It’s thin blade glistened under the light of the sun beautifully. 

He blinked, and the color of fresh blood clouded his vision. It was a sickening hue of red that he’d never get used to no matter how many times he had to look at it.

Sharp pain danced across the surface of his forearm. 

He hated himself for it, too. He did it to himself. It was his own hand that was holding the knife, he was responsible for ruining his own skin.

He did it again. 

He brought the knife to his wrist over and over again until he couldn’t see where lines started and ended. 

The pain was screaming at him. ‘You’re worthless,’ it told him. ‘You’re weak, you can’t even control yourself’. ‘What use are you living in this world?”

His mentalist tricks could fool everyone in the new world, but he couldn’t fool himself. 

He sat there sobbing with dry eyes. He couldn’t even bring himself to cry.

It was impossible for Gen to think of anything besides the stinging cuts on his arm. The damned blade weighed heavily in his pocket, reminding him constantly of its presence. For some reason, though, he craved so much to do it again. It hurt. Pain is instinctually bad, people run from it, avoid it, cry from it. It wasn’t right for him to be slashing at his own skin because he couldn’t handle his own brain, but that brain of his wouldn’t let him clear the idea from his head that made him want to slice his veins. He was hurting inside, so badly that there was no other way to distract him besides bringing the pain out outside.

The mentalist’s feet stepped carefully around various objects that were sure to make noise on his way through the clearing, but he didn’t get far before an all-too-familiar voice stopped him.

“Have you seen my knife, Gen?” Senku asked with an accusatory tone.

“No, I haven’t seen it at all,” Gen replied in an even tone, trying not to seem too nervous or distracted. 

“That’s strange. I must have misplaced it then.”

If Senku knew Gen had the knife, it would be over. He could feel it’s handle against his leg, hoping it would go unnoticed. It was barely visible from the outside, just barely, but someone as smart as Senku would easily be able to tell he was lying if he hadn’t already. Emotional confrontation wasn’t exactly Senku’s thing, thankfully. If he could just escape the current situation he was sure he’d be fine. 

Deep down inside him, the thought emerged that maybe that was the perfect opportunity to open up, to heal his pain, but the process behind that seemed too annoying to be worth it. He’d be suffering one way or another. 

Gen was back at his new favorite spot. The soft rustle of the leaves and gentle sway of the branches made it a beautiful place to be upset. He brought forth the knife from his pocket, clutching the handle with his delicate hands. It occurred to him that there was a high risk of infection, but he didn’t care even the slightest bit for his health and safety anymore. There was even a chance he could die from it, but why would that stop him? To hell with his wretched body, dying was the least of his worries. If he was dead, that would be one less mouth to feed.

The tip of the blade penetrated the skin on his wrist in a way he thought was beautiful. He watched the skin envelop its edge as he dragged it across the pale surface. Pain shot up through his nerves, spreading through the whole arm. Every incision screamed his mistakes back at him like a broken record with the meaninglessness of his life etched into it. It hurt deep into the muscle, but the thoughts in his head hurt more than anything he could do to his body. 

The blood did not come right away, but slowly, deep red beads began to seep out along the jagged carvings. 

He slashed another cut into his forearm. Any clear skin, although there wasn’t much left after last session, was soon destroyed by his immense self hatred.

Both arms were covered with rough, scabby lines, but after everything, he didn’t even feel any better. 

He knew he was doing something very wrong. He was hurting himself, but he couldn’t put an end to it. Something about it fascinated him. Like a moth to a flame, he couldn’t resist the morbid temptation that plagued him night and day. He longed to feel the awful sensation more than anything else, for some inexplicable reason.

Perhaps it was just that he was so much of a disgusting human being that he couldn’t help but destroy the body that somehow made it through the 3700 years.

It was hard to find Gen around anymore. It was to his understanding that nobody would notice, or that nobody cared enough about him to look around for him when he left, so he spent practically all of his time wandering around aimlessly, lost in thought. The team probably worked better without him anyway. 

The constant mental turmoil was beginning to affect his physical appearance. He looked sickly and sleep deprived, and any energy he had before had been sucked out of him. Anyone with half a brain could see that he wasn’t alright, but still he insisted on pretending he was. He’d never admit to them that he was weak enough to let himself become that way, or do the things he had done. 

He was starting to hate the maple tree. 

To him, it was the symbol of everything he hated most about himself. The memories he made with it were impossible to forget no matter how hard he tried, but like everything else, his efforts would never be enough. The wretched thing witnessed when he succumbed to his faulty desires over and over again. It knew he wasn’t worthy of anything, that he didn’t deserve to be resurrected, or welcomed into Senku’s kingdom so graciously, or even being on the earth in the first place. Modern or stone, it didn’t matter, he was never fit to be in the world.

Unable to suppress the urge, his fists collided with the rough bark. Tears blurred his vision, making it harder and harder to aim his punches. It hurt, but he deserved to feel it. Every time he had manipulated someone for his own benefit, every time he had used someone, the countless lies he told, they were all things he needed to pay for. He hurt others without a second thought, so it was only natural that he’d feel some pain too. 

The tree bark had been painted red by the time he landed his final punch. Violent sobs racked his body, causing his knees buckle under him. With his arms wrapped tightly around his frail body, he retched and gasped for air. Over and over again, like a record, a single phrase echoed in his brain. 

‘Die’.

The thought of such liberation was incredibly reliving. To not have to deal with the world’s problems, to no longer endure the pain, it all sounded so gratifying. All he needed was a plan. At last, something excited him again after months of feeling nothing but pain. His lips almost curled into a smile of relief at the thought that soon, he’d no longer have to put up with himself anymore. 

Rinsing his hands in a nearby creek didn’t do much to hide how torn up his hands were, but it helped to wash the blood off. He was thankful for his robe, which covered his hands completely if he tucked them into the sleeves. The world felt different with the knowledge that he wouldn’t be in it for much longer.

“Hey mentalist,” Senku beckoned him, “can you do one small favor for me?” 

“Of course,” Gen replied, wanting to at least try to help but unsure of how he would be able accomplish the task with his worn out body. 

“Hold this still,” the scientist said, shoving a piece of technology into the other boy’s hands. Before he had time to go back on his statement, his mangled hands were on full display. 

It was painfully obvious that Senku noticed the scabs by the shocked look on his face. He wasn’t much of a natural at hiding his emotions. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he had done it to himself, too. It was only a matter of time before everyone knew about his inner struggles, and the last thing he wanted was to get everyone involved. 

It took everything he had not to sneak away at night. Being inside was beginning to feel extremely claustrophobic, and he was dying to get some fresh air. Unable to fall asleep, he opted for silently planning his escape from the world. 

It was easy to rule out the things like an overdose or shooting himself, due to the lack of materials. It took them a while to make even a small amount of medicine, making a fatal dosage would be way too much time and effort. What he needed rope, or a high cliff. Those two options would have the highest success rate, and he wouldn’t want to risk failure. It was all or nothing.

His thoughts were interrupted by a tentative pat on his shoulder. He sat up quickly, startled by the sensation, and was met with a pair of crimson eyes staring back at him.

“Come with me,” Senku whispered, as not to wake the others from their dreams. There was really no choice but to go with the other boy. His tired brain couldn’t think of a convincing excuse quickly enough. 

Anxiety coursed through his veins as they walked together to more private spot, away from their sleeping companions. All of his emotions were being held back by something as flimsy as a sheet of tissue paper, as if any moment they could tear right through and spill out for the world to see. 

“Look... Are you ok?” The scientist seemed well out of his element. It wouldn’t have been surprising if he said he had never dealt with that kind of thing before. He didn’t seem like the confrontation type, much less the type to get into any kind of drama.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Gen was struggling to hold his composure. He could only hope it wasn’t too obvious how nervous he was.

“I’m only concerned,” he tried to seem non threatening. As if those kinds of psychological tricks would work on a mentalist like himself.

“I don’t need your help,” he tried to sound calm, but the coil was starting to come undone, “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine, Gen,” Senku’s voice quivered. The other boy’s response clearly upset him, but it was the price he had to pay for getting himself involved. 

“Well, I am. Leave me alone.” He turned around and started back towards his uncomfortable sleeping arrangement, but was pulled back. Senku’s hand was wrapped tightly around his wrist, keeping him from making his escape from the uncomfortable conversation.

“Don’t touch me,” Gen raised his voice, but the firm and painful grip only tightened. 

“Wait-“ Senku’s fingers tugged at the material of his loose sleeves forcefully.

“Let go of me,” he was almost yelling. With all his strength, he jerked his arm away, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. The crude material of his sleeve tore right off, revealing his injured forearm. The scabrous red lines stood out against his milky white skin, which shone brightly under the dim moonlight.

“Gen,” Senkuu’s voice was soft. 

“Don’t touch me,” Gen whimpered. As if a dam had collapsed, tears spilled uncontrollably over the edge of his waterline. Neither boy knew what to do in a situation like that. No matter how hard Gen tried, he would not have been able to convince Senku that he had not seen what he clearly had. 

Arms wrapped gently around his shivering body from behind. The warmth radiating off of his friend did nothing to comfort him. He knew it was only temporary, like everything. Like him. 

Breaking away only made him feel emptier. Drying his face with the remaining sleeve, the pair walked back together like nothing had happened.

Neither of them knew what to say to each other after his breakdown. 

Senku was a genius when it came to science but couldn’t be more clueless when it came to emotions. 

In the early hours of the morning, Kohaku came running into the kingdom with a sense of urgency, effectively waking everyone from their sleep.

“Senku, I think the enemy is nearby!” She said between slightly heavier breaths. It wasn’t the run that had caused her to lose her breath, rather the shock that her discovery had given her. Almost everyone, Gen included, became incredibly curious and followed Kohaku, leading them through the wilderness urgently to see her findings. 

The group arrived at a large maple tree crusted in dried blood. 

“Is this something from Tsukasa?” Kohaku inquired innocently. Senku shot Gen a concerned glance, and the mentalist looked away with embarrassment. The other boy already knew of Gen’s struggle, but to see the damage it had done was jarring.

It’s not like he could blame Kohaku for alerting everyone. In the eyes of someone who didn’t know, it seemed like a warning or marking from an enemy. Senku was the only one who knew the truth; all Gen could do was hope that his secret wasn’t about to be outed. 

“Don’t worry,” Senku tried to settle the commotion, but the villagers were shouting questions, and demanding answers. 

“It’s nothing to worry about. I’ve seen Lions in this area, so it’s probably some wild animal that marked this tree.” 

Kohaku saw through this lie. Her years of racing through the wilderness for her sister’s bath water had given her a vast understanding of the nature around them. There was nothing natural about a bloodstained tree in the middle of the forest. 

Senku’s words were able to calm the regular villagers down enough to get them back to the camp, and there wasn’t much talk about the incident afterwards, but Senku seemed far from finished with the issue. 

A few hours passed by and he thought he was in the clear until Senku approached him once more. 

“Gen,” Senku held the boy back with him. “You’re going to get an infection.” Of course he’d be thinking logically. Gen could expect nothing less from a scientist.

“I don’t care,” He replied in annoyance. “I don’t need you to look after me like I’m your pet”.

“I’m only trying to help.”

“I don’t need your help.” He did. “I’m fine.” He wasn’t fine. 

“You aren’t fine,” Senku continued to press the matter. He was determined not to let anything happen to any of his precious allies. “Kohaku is worried too. We can’t lie to her about this, you know”.

“So you went and told her too? Why do you even care so much?” Gen’s voice was becoming weaker as he tried not to cry in front of the other boy again.

Not concealing his secret enough was a terrible mistake on his part. He now had to deal with resistance, and it wasn’t going to be easy getting away from the hard headed boy. 

“I want to save everyone, and that includes you.” 

“What, so you can be some kind of hero? Count me out of your little fantasy.” He was getting frustrated and desperate to have his way. 

“That's not it-”

“Then why do you care? Why me? I do nothing around here anyways, none of you would care if I were dead!” His volume was raised to a yell, determined to get his point across. He knew Senku didn’t really care about him, he just wanted extra hands for his brutal physical labor team. 

The scientist had no reply for him. Instead of continuing the argument, he went back to the camp. 

Gen didn’t want to go back. He knew there was a cliff nearby; if he could just get to the top, all this trouble would be over.

Climbing the mountain was difficult for someone with his level of athleticism, but for the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt determined to do something. He was going to end his life, no matter what it took.

This was finally it. He would finally be freed from the burden of life. No longer would anyone have to deal with him being around anymore, either.

He grew increasingly more anxious with every step towards the edge of the rocky cliff, but as he peered down over the edge, relief soothed his nervousness. It was definitely high enough. The harsh winter wind blew strongly through his hair and stung his face, but a little stinging couldn’t phase him now. 

In a few moments, everything would finally be over. Finally.

Feelings satisfied with his last sensory experience, he prepared to jump.

“Gen!” Who was calling for him with that familiar voice? “Gen, wait!” Of course, it was Senku, the only one who knew his secret. Whatever the other boy had to say to him, he didn’t want to hear it. Not now, when he was within an inch of his life. 

Choosing to ignore the scientist, he started to lean forward. With his eyes shut tightly, he let himself lose balance and fall forward. 

But he wasn’t falling. 

Senku’s fingers were tight around his wrist, holding him back from his salvation. 

“Why won’t you let me die?” He wanted this so badly. More than anything, he wanted to be saved from the torture of living another day. 

“Please don’t do this” Senku’s voice wavered with every syllable as he fought to keep his emotions in check. 

“Let go.” Gen demanded as he turned around, but the other boy wouldn’t release him.

“I won’t. We all care about you.”

“Liar.” He threw punches and scratches with his free hand in every direction frantically. Senku didn’t try dodging any of them; he took everything that came his way. He clawed at Senku’s hand, but still, he never loosened his grip. 

“I don’t want to lose you.”

Senku finally let go when the mentalist collapsed to his knees in front of him.

Gen felt like a monster. He was hurting the people around him again. That’s all he ever did. 

“Im sorry,” he whimpered, biting his lip to avoid being overcome with emotion again. 

“It’s alright, nobody’s mad,” Senku sighed with relief, “Let's go back now.” Gen nodded slightly, and shifted away from the cliff to stand. His weak mind was tricked yet again into sticking around for another day. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the best thing I’ve ever written. I want to continue to write things that make people feel something. 
> 
> Please consider leaving a comment.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Under the Maple Tree: Triggerless](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29624658) by [gworm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gworm/pseuds/gworm)




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